Chapter 12

Oh, no. She knew that feeling. Her throat burned, and it wasn’t just from being dry.

Squirming, she knew that feeling, too. Her arms were bound behind her in that special way he knew to keep even her tingling fingers immobile. Only this time, she realized the rope was bound tightly around her breasts, tied in a snug harness across her body.

Blinking, her breath was already quickening while her heart thumped against the cage of her ribs as she looked through the bars of the cage that held her.

In the first rays of morning light, a grand giant stood there before her. Easily over three meters tall, with thick grey skin, legs like tree trunks and four arms almost as girthy, bulging with muscles. His lower arms were on his hips, shaking his head as he looked down at Roan gathering the last of his items.

“Shit, Roan,” the giant boomed casually, his earthy voice like stones grinding. “That kitty cat was something else. He actually chipped through my arm before he ran off! How the hell you survived had to be pure luck.”

With a villainous grin, Roan turned his head to meet Cylthan’s glare. “Yeah. I certainly got lucky.”

Peering in at her with eyes that might have been made of obsidian– his irises like large brown rings under the glassy exterior– they narrowed skeptically. The only small mercy Roan had offered was to wrap her in his warm cloak so that she was not naked to the cool morning air or the giant’s scrutiny. “She don’t look like any shifted dragon I’ve ever seen. Looks a whole lot like an elf.”

“She certainly felt like an elf,” Roan returned with an arrogant tilt of his head before vanishing from her view around the front of the wagon.

The giant snapped up straight to raise a heavy, craggy brow at him before following after. “Hang on, you already fucked her?” He paused only for a second before answering himself. “No, of course you did. Why am I even surprised? Seems your type.”

“I don’t know, Bern. You always act so surprised by most things I do.”

“Well, I guess I kind of expect you to act like a decent person on occasion. That’s probably where my confusion comes from.

“So, are we waiting for the kitty cat or off to meet Zoliac?”

“Oh, big, bad daddy kitty won’t leave his sweet kitten. He’ll attack when he sees his chance. Let’s just get moving. We’ll take our time and make camp early. I have a new toy to play with.”

His dark intonation made her tremble. Her pussy still felt thick and wet with all that he had left in her but hours before.

“You’re twisted, Roan,” Bern grumbled as the wagon rattled past him, shaking his head. Climbing up onto a colossal, iguana-like mount, he followed along well behind to watch for any sign of Draen.

Just to be a total dick, Roan had placed no spell on the cage, only a thick rope tied in a bow.

Turning her back to the giant, she leaned against the bars and pulled her knees up so she could lay her cheek against them. She didn’t want him to see the dejection on her face.

Really, she didn’t know what she had been thinking. Every bit of her had known she couldn’t trust him. Every logical part of her brain had told her he would hurt her. Yet, every instinct had desired him, undeniably aching for something she’d never really understood but knew he could provide.

Draen had never told her what would happen. She only ever had a vague understanding of how such things worked. The panthers did these things in private, and Draen had told her it wasn’t a pleasant experience for them, unlike for people. Just touching herself made her feel dirty. Two fingers were particularly naughty, and Draen always glared with knowing whenever he’d wake up and sensed she felt that way. He never even let her think lustful thoughts, always interrupting her when any thought made her squirm and bite her lip.

What Roan had done to her felt so intimate. He had made her feel so good and it had felt even better to surrender to him. Even now, her body burned to feel his touch just thinking about it.

But, here she was– naked, tied up, in the cage, and her voice was in his pocket. As if none of it had mattered. As if she didn’t matter. Just something for him to use. He even called her his toy.

And when he had been done with her...

Her head popped up to inspect the pale mark on the front of her left shoulder. An intimate place he could see anytime he would have his way with her, she was sure. She thought it kind of looked like the tattoo he had on his wrist. Was it really a rat? Well, that suited the son of a bitch. Rat bastard.

Was that all she was to him? A possession? Draen had told her humans owned elves. Humans had owned the panthers. Humans owned a lot of things. Slaves. Resources. Land. And they weren’t exactly good at sharing.

She just really hoped Draen would do whatever it was he was doing quickly. He obviously had a plan. He was the only one she knew she could trust, so she just had to trust he would be back for her. She just really didn’t want to be in this cage, feeling so used. Wrapped up tight in his cloak, enveloped in his scent as though to remind her of his claim, she tried her best to banish the desire to feel his touch again.

What made this all the worse was the sensation. What was it? The closer she got to the jerk, the more intense it felt. Everywhere he touched her had sparkled. It couldn’t be normal– could it?

The longer the day wore on, the more upset she became, lost in her depressing thoughts. If Draen were here, he would never allow her to get this deep into her own head.

The wagon jolting off the trail to a clear spot snapped her out of her misery. Wiggling hurriedly to the back of the cage, she waited while the two got a camp started, their conversation preoccupied with the necessities of the tasks at hand.

Her heart skipped when she heard Roan suggest that Bern go hunting, which would create a perfect opportunity for Draen to attack if he was watching them.

Bern’s reply sounded less than convinced that was really the reason, but he still gathered up his weapons and departed. His fading footfalls left an agonizing silence broken only by the crackle of the fire.

The suffocating quiet drew on for what felt like hours. She knew he was making her wait. He wanted her to be sweating, going crazy with apprehension.